


The Silver Doe

by Dane_Wilshire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Size Kink, humping, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dane_Wilshire/pseuds/Dane_Wilshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harry/Ron – the hug in the Silver Doe scene turns into rather more.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silver Doe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt “Harry/Ron – the hug in the Silver Doe scene turns into rather more” for the Gryffindor Boys Kink Meme at gryff_boys_kink on LiveJournal.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is a complete work of fiction. I make no money from this, nor is any copyright harm intended. Harry Potter, all ideas, and related characters are the sole property of JK Rowling.

Harry gripped the still-sopping back of Ron’s jacket as they hugged. The now-destroyed Horcrux/locket lay silent and impotent on the flat rock beside the pool in the winter-silent woods. Their friendship wasn’t normally a demonstrative one, but Harry was glad to have his best mate back and he squeezed Ron even tighter.

“It’s not true, y’know?” Harry spoke softly into Ron’s chest. “None of what that locket said – or showed – was true. You know I think of Hermione as a sister…and you…,” Harry eased but didn’t break the hug as he looked up into Ron’s blue eyes, “you are not second best. You’re my best mate – actually, the first friend I ever had! You’re –” Harry stammered, “you’re closer than family to me. I don’t mean to overshadow you.”

Ron shivered, partly from his still-sopping clothes, partly from Harry’s words and warm breath on his chest. “I know,” Ron said, choosing to respond only to part of what Harry said. “I’m sure all that stuff just looks cooler from this perspective than from yours.” His chest rumbled with a light laugh.

“Speaking of cooler,” Harry said as he reluctantly eased out of the hug, “you’re still drenched to the skin.” He raised his hand and pointed Hermione’s wand toward Ron and cast a hot air charm. Ron’s blue eyes relaxed momentarily at the sudden warmth then grew big as saucers as his clothes started to smoulder – with him still in them! As usual, Harry’s magic and Hermione’s wand did not always work together as intended.

Ron’s clothes quickly went from smouldering to smoking. “RON!” Harry screamed. “Get down and roll around in the snow. You’re going to catch fire. Damn this wand.” Ron followed Harry’s urgent instructions, but his smoking clothes began to form embers at their edges. The magic fire wouldn’t be suppressed by Muggle means.

Without really thinking about it, Harry began ripping at Ron’s clothes, flinging them into the pool. Ron, just as eager not to combust, started shredding his way free of the suddenly stifling and sizzling cocoon. Being already-wet, abruptly frightened, and arse-naked in snow, the cold attacked him as agonizingly as the fire had.

Harry noticed a distant, glassy expression settle in Ron’s eyes. Shock. “Accio sleeping bag,” Harry called out. Ron’s sleeping bag erupted from the rucksack and unfurled at his feet. Harry quickly started stripping his own clothes.

“H-Harry,” Ron chattered. “Wh-what…?”

“Hush,” Harry murmured as he grasped Ron’s long-fingered hand. He half-dragged Ron toward the sleeping bag and unceremoniously stuffed the lanky redhead into it, before crawling in behind him. “I read or saw this somewhere before,” Harry answered as he wrapped his arms around his best mate. He pressed his much shorter body along as much of Ron’s taller back as he could. “We’re both freezing, you’re about to go into shock; body heat should help both.”

Ron felt Harry’s heat against his back in the snug, cosy sleeping bag. The tension, exhaustion and cold of the night’s events eased away. He sighed reflexively…then gasped as other reflexes began elsewhere in his body. Ron pushed back into Harry’s hug, his buttocks centred exactly on Harry’s crotch. Ron was mortified when his cock responded to the intimate embrace; his already impressive appendage quickly erected to the length, fullness and urgency only he had known before. Now he was pressed naked, back to front with his best mate – and he had a roaring erection. Ron was well aware that the hot, heavy throbbing in his groin, when it reached this state, could only be relieved one way. He sighed and shivered.

Harry thought those reactions were to the warmth settling in and the shock passing. He rubbed his small hands across Ron’s chest. “It’s okay, Ron,” Harry muttered into his friend’s back. When Harry’s right hand reached the bottom edge of Ron’s ribs, though, he encountered something amazingly hot and firm poking back at him. “Ron, is that your…?”

“Yes, Harry,” Ron responded, resigned to his embarrassment. “That’s my cock. Sorry, sometimes it seems to think for itself.” He felt Harry nod against his spine; the messy black hair was soft and it tickled.

“So, how big is that thing anyway?” Harry spoke softly. “Mine certainly doesn’t reach that far.” Harry let his hand glide down the extraordinary extent of his friend’s cock, the motion just firm enough to pull the skin back and off the hot bell end as he slid along. Ron reacted by pressing his shoulders backward into Harry’s head, his groin forward into his friend’s touch. Harry let his thumb and index finger circle the base of Ron’s cock as his palm cradled the redhead’s sac.

“Oh, Godric,” Ron moaned. “What are you doing?”

Harry gently squeezed Ron’s balls. “Hush. It’s okay.” Ron’s cock throbbed in Harry’s small, tightening grip as the dark-haired wizard closed his hand and slowly – oh, so slowly – pulled upward along its length.

Ron’s hips eased backward to meet Harry’s hard-on, again exactly centred along the cleft of his arse. The taller boy marvelled that though his friend’s dick wasn’t as long as his own, it was just as hard…and quite a lot thicker. Ron’s wank sessions were, out of necessity, normally fast and furious. Harry’s technique was slow, deliberate and intoxicating – his small fingers alternately tensed and relaxed as he stroked from base to tip. When Harry’s fingers closed around the gathered foreskin at the end, he made a slight twisting motion.

“Aaaahh,” Ron moaned. His hips pressed further backward; Harry’s cock slipped into the crevice of Ron’s arse. Ron noticed then that Harry made quite a bit more pre-cum; his friend’s shorter, thicker, and considerably hairier, dick easily slipped between Ron’s buttocks.

Harry’s hip and hand motions were perfectly coordinated – as his hand slid downward his dick slipped upward. Ron’s mind reeled from the simultaneous fucking sensations front and back. No matter how much Ron attempted to change the pace with his own thrusts, Harry controlled the motion – calculated and measured. As the minutes ticked and passed away, the boys’ bodies become filmed with a light sweat.

Harry pulled Ron closer to him as his ministrations slowly built in intensity. “Can you reach the zip?” Harry asked. “I want to watch you cum…when it’s time.”

“Oh, make that be soon,” Ron rasped as he opened the sleeping bag.

“Not yet,” Harry almost growled. As their bodies were exposed, even in the reflected half-light on the night-time winter forest, Harry could just make out that Ron even had freckles on the tender skin of his crotch. Harry was mesmerized at the sight of his best mate’s cock, the sparse flaming-red hair at its base. He pondered, somewhere deep in his mind, that he could probably get both his hands on it and still have hard stalk exposed. That spurred him to more vigorous stroking and humping. He felt Ron’s balls tighten and contract against the edge of his hand.

“Harder…,” Ron groaned. “…and faster.” His lean body tensed and vibrated. “Oh, bloody hell. Now…now!” He keened.

Harry almost reflexively closed his eyes as he felt similar sensations course through him, but he wanted to watch. “Do it,” Harry encouraged. “Shoot it. SHOOT IT!” Ron’s slim buttocks clenched around Harry’s slick dick; Harry spurted his release along the crevice of Ron’s arse and the small of his back.

Harry’s eyes widened as the first shot erupted from Ron’s swollen red tip to land on his pulsing, freckled neck. Several shots quickly followed and splattered across Ron’s chest. The last four or five descended down the midline of Ron’s quivering belly.

It was many minutes of mutual panting breaths before either Ron or Harry could move. Harry reached toward the discarded wand, but Ron’s hand closed over his. “Right. You better not use that one,” Ron drawled. “First, you’ll get it messy,” Ron winked, “and second, we don’t need anything else set on fire tonight.” Ron walked away from Harry and toward the enormous rucksack. He crouched in the snow and dug through the contents. Even though Harry had just cum, the sight of Ron’s slim arse – now frosted with Harry’s sperm – sent tingles through the dark-haired wizard’s body. “Here it is,” Ron stated as he pulled a short, dark wand from one of the pockets. “I figured it’s always handy to have a backup.” Ron cast a spell familiar to all Hogwarts boys which quickly cleaned away the evidence of their recent activities.

“And now,” said Harry as they dressed, “all we’ve got to do is find the tent again.”

“So,” Ron cleared his throat, “you still want me back with you? Even after I left?”

“You’ve sort of made up for it tonight,” said Harry.


End file.
